Everyone's Gone
by journeyman07
Summary: Amelia has a few issues with the festive season and requires a little Ronon wisdom.


**A/N:** this fic takes place a little while after my other R/A fic 'Who Cares?' and makes better sense if you've already read that.

* * *

Amelia Banks watched as the last of the Atlantis personnel heading home for Christmas stepped through the wormhole. The blue light shimmered and rippled for a moment as she waited for her cue from Richard Woolsey to deactivate the city's Stargate.

He nodded.

Her fingers moved efficiently through the sequence.

'Thank you Amelia,' Atlantis' leader said quietly, 'I'll be in my office.'

'Yes sir.'

The gate room was quieter still after his exit and she leaned back in her chair. Just one other technician kept her company; she didn't know him. Even Chuck had headed home.

Amelia rotated her shoulders and took some deep breaths in and out, trying to relax. She didn't like Christmas. She didn't like the expectation that you had to be happy, that you had to be with family, that you had to buy them gifts and that you had to spend joyful and loving time with them.

Most of all Amelia didn't like the feeling Christmas created for her – like there was a gaping hole in her stomach that ached interminably and that her heart was somehow missing from her chest or just not beating anymore - despite the fact she was obviously still alive.

Of course, she knew her stomach and heart were functioning as well as ever…but the feeling remained. It had been with her since she was twelve years old. Much of the time now it faded to a dull ache in the background, but at Christmas it returned with a vengeance.

So it was simply easier to ignore Christmas and do other things. This prospect was slightly easier when you were millions of light years away in another galaxy where Christmas didn't exist. Especially when those to whom it mattered had all gone home.

Footsteps on the gantry below. Someone was still around. Someone with a long stride and someone with remarkably light footsteps for such a big man.

'Hey,' Amelia smiled up at Ronon Dex, composing herself carefully.

'Hey yourself,' he replied and dropped into the empty seat beside her, 'not going back to Earth for this…Christmas thing?'

'Decided against it,' Amelia explained, grasping for a breezy light tone that she did not feel.

'OK.' Ronon wasn't deceived, but didn't press the issue further.

'Sheppard invited me,' he said instead, 'but I would have felt…'

'Awkward?' she finished for him, glad for the change of focus away from her.

'Yeah,' Ronon grinned at her.

'Christmas can do that.' And unable to hide the subdued note in her voice, Amelia turned away and looked at the gate controls with intense interest.

'You OK?' Ronon found the words were out before he could restrain them.

'Yeah…uh…' she blinked back tears and kept her eyes on the console, 'uh…just a bit tired…I think.'

'What time do you finish here?' Ronon asked gently, 'Wanna go get something to eat?'

Amelia shot a glance at him. Since finding the Satedan art collection on the mainland their romance had very steadily, but surely begun to ignite. _Like a slow-burning flame_, she thought, _the kind that doesn't blow out in the wind so easily. _She'd sensed that Ronon was still being deliberately cautious about their relationship and that suited her just fine – she had her own baggage to deal with in that regard and if this _was_ the real thing, which it might just be, she didn't want to mess it up either.

The plain fact was that she really liked him…and that was quite overwhelming at times. He was the first man she'd taken a risk on since…well, since her marriage went so wrong. Ronon made Amelia's heart leap in her chest, her stomach lurch unexpectedly and her cheeks flush with delight at the sight of him – _all the things that a new love should do to a person,_ she mused. So far Ronon was what he seemed: honest, loyal, loving and steadfast.

So far.

Eating together at the end of her shifts or on his return from a mission had become their first routine. Amelia usually enjoyed this…even down to the surreptitious looks they always received from other Atlantis personnel.

Yet tonight she wasn't sure if…there were just too many memories crowding relentlessly into her mind. It was hard to see anything else through the cloud they'd created.

'Uh…I think…' Amelia began, 'I think I'll take a rain-check tonight, if you don't mind, I just feel really tired, is that OK?'

Ronon paused for answering, trying to read her saw an unusual heavy sadness behind her eyes, right behind the anguish at having to turn him down. Yes, _having _to turn him down.

'OK.' He agreed softly, trying to mask his disappointment but not succeeding entirely, 'Call me on the radio if you change you mind, OK?'

'Sure,' she nodded, relief evident on her serious features, 'of course, thanks Ronon.'

And with one fluid movement he was up out of the chair and gone.

Gone.

She felt incredibly alone.

Amelia rubbed wearily at the hole in her stomach - the ache was fierce now. Her wristwatch confirmed that it was time to finish. She moved through the console checkout procedures like an automaton.

Richard Woolsey waved vaguely at her as she left and headed for her quarters. Amelia was surprised she'd even noticed her departure, but returned the courteous gesture before descending the stairs. Many thought Woolsey didn't always understand the nuances of what was going on around him, but Amelia didn't hold to that view. She'd seen real moments of wisdom and kindness in Atlantis' leader. Tonight, however, she was glad for his customary emotional distance.

Tonight. Christmas Eve.

She shuddered and focused on the walk to her quarters.

* * *

'Ronon, please respond?' Richard Woolsey watched her go and clicked open his comms link.

'Yeah?' the Satedan's deep tones and casual lack of radio formality made him smile.

'Can you come to my office?'

'On my way.'

If Ronon was surprised or intrigued by this request it didn't show in his voice. Woolsey wouldn't have expected it to really.

'You wanted to see me?' Ronon leaned on the doorframe, arms folded. He almost enjoyed making Atlantis' leader nervous and it didn't take much. Privately he actually had a grudging respect for the odd little IOA man running the city – Woolsey generally made the right decisions at the right time, even if they invariably went against his beloved IOA protocols.

'Yes, thank you.' Woolsey gestured for the Satedan to sit down.

Ronon continued to stand. Woolsey sighed.

'I'm worried about Amelia.' he launched in, not missing the slight frown that crossed the other's man's brow.

'Amelia.' Ronon repeated neutrally, wondering what Richard Woolsey knew about how much time he and Amelia had been spending together. Probably quite a lot.

'Yes,' Woolsey was careful how he continued, 'She didn't seem herself today.'

'So?'

'I think Christmas is difficult for her.'

Ronon stared at him, trying to figure out what Woolsey was _not _saying.

'Her family…' in a flash, he remembered the conversation back on the mainland he'd had with Amelia about her shocking loss. He mentally kicked himself for not having realised this before. 'You know about that?'

Woolsey smiled sadly, 'It's my business to know what's in the personal files of everyone on this base, Ronon.'

'Yeah. OK.'

'The accident…' Woolsey paused, 'it happened a few days before Christmas, when she was twelve. So I think…'

'Christmas is difficult for her.' Ronon echoed, then added in a low voice, 'She said she wanted to be on her own.'

'And you think that's best?'

'No.' Ronon agreed.

'Well then…' Woolsey prompted him with a slight smile.

'OK.' And with that the Satedan turned and left without another word.

Woolsey allowed his smile to take on a satisfied look. It was true how Ronon still made him jittery, but he appreciated just how _few _words were needed to explain the purpose of a mission to the stoic warrior. Richard Woolsey chuckled to himself at the irony of this observation – after all he'd spent a whole _lifetime_ using too many words.

* * *

Ronon stood outside of Amelia's door and stared at it. _She'd wanted to be on her own_, he reminded himself, _but actually she needs someone right now_…_but she wanted to be…._

Procrastination was not Ronon's style and in the end he emphatically activated the door chime.

No reply.

He tried again.

Nothing.

Something…instinct?...told Ronon that Amelia _was _in her quarters. He sighed. Having come so far with this intrusion he decided he may as well see it through. He keyed the code to the door and watched it slide open immediately. Knowing the codes to most of his friends' and colleagues' quarters wasn't difficult – it was only a matter of careful observation. The only person who ever changed the combination was Rodney McKay and even then Ronon could almost be certain the numbers would contain some variation on the scientist's birth date.

Amelia's quarters were shrouded in darkness. Only Ronon's heightened Runner's senses told him she was there in the corner - in the place where the shadows were darkest.

'Amy?' he murmured gently.

A slight movement allowed him to focus on her curled up form.

'Amy.' Ronon said again, crouching down beside her.

He reached out carefully, just in case she flinched. The pain and grief emanating from the young woman rode over him in waves. Ronon pushed hair back from Amelia's face and stroked her cheek. She didn't react. She only continued to stare motionless ahead at some unseen horizon, lost in her memories.

Keeping his movements quiet and controlled, Ronon sat beside her activating one of the softer lights as he did so. Amelia had been crying – he could see now the blotches on her normally smooth skin.

She didn't move. Neither did he. Amelia had gathered her knees up under chin with her head resting on them – her long hair forming a curtain across her face until Ronon had moved it.

Ronon waited.

'How do you stand it?' eventually Amelia's voice sounded in the stillness - cracked and shaky.

'What?' he reached out and traced his thumb slowly down her cheek again.

'You know…' she hadn't altered her position, 'that everyone you knew on Sateda has gone?'

The Satedan stared at her for a long moment, considering the answer to this thoughtfully. No one had ever asked this so directly before.

'Revenge.' Ronon stated simply and it was the truth. Except, it _had_ been the truth. Anger and thoughts of vengeance on the Wraith of the galaxy had fuelled and energised him for years – had been the very sustenance of his being. Except the cost had been high. The younger version of himself had been extrovert, open, flamboyant even…the driving force of vengeance had stolen these qualities away. Dialogue, trust, friendship and relationships with fellow humans had become difficult – impossible even. The first few years in Atlantis had painfully demonstrated this.

'Really?' Amelia croaked.

'Yeah,' he nodded, adding dryly. 'I don't recommend it.'

'I did anger for quite a while.' She elaborated quietly, 'That just made things worse too. Do you still want revenge?'

With this last question, Amelia finally lifted her head and met Ronon's eyes. He smiled at her ruefully and shook his head, just once.

'Not so much,' he was surprised that this was also a truthful answer, 'the Wraith are….' Ronon considered what he meant, '…less of a threat now. Thanks to Atlantis.'

'So…' she gazed at him sadly and returned to her original question, 'how do you stand knowing everyone's gone?

'I try not to let things I can't change bother me.' Ronon smiled a little at the words, remembering when he'd used them before…to Rodney, to explain how he bore the scars on his back from the implanted tracking device.

It seemed to Ronon that anything further Amelia might have said caught in the back of her throat at this answer.

Then the tears came. Unhindered they fell in a deluge down her tired face – a dam broken.

Ronon slipped his arms around her and pulled her in close, stroking her face and hair as Amelia cried into his chest. She curled both hands into fists clutching his leather shirt tightly.

For an age they remained like this as Ronon held Amelia and absorbed her grief for her. He could do that, suspecting few from her past had been strong enough. Sometime he wanted to ask about the ex-husband…but that could wait for now.

'You said…' he remembered something, 'you said we need to…give ourselves permission to go on living.'

Ronon was referring to their original conversation back on the sea shore during Sheppard's impromptu camping trip. Amelia had revealed then how her own family were no more - tragically lost in a car accident.

'I did say that.' She mumbled into his chest.

'So, it's good advice.' Ronon kissed the crown of her head gently.

'It is?'

'Yeah.'

'I'm OK most of the time,' Amelia laid her cheek against Ronon's chest and listened to his steady heartbeat. Slowly her fists uncurled, so that her palms were lightly flattened on his dampened shirt.

'I know.' Ronon agreed, thinking of the calm and composed exterior she normally presented. Somehow it was good to know that…she had vulnerabilities….like everyone…like himself.

'C'mon,' he urged her to stand then, 'Got something to show you.'

Amelia looked at him in confusion. The change of subject and tempo of their conversation was abrupt, but not altogether unwelcome.

'Not here.' Ronon explained. 'In the library.'

'The library?'

'Yeah, c'mon.'

'Let me wash my face.' Amelia murmured, still feeling shaky.

Ronon waited and listened to the splashing noises coming from the bathroom. When Amelia emerged her skin was clearer and she'd tied her hair back in a loose ponytail. He smiled at this.

'Nice,' Ronon gestured to her hair and was secretly pleased when Amelia blushed at the compliment…just a little.

He was also pleased when she took his offered arm and kept her hand there all the way to the library, walking closely at his side.

'In here.' Ronon indicated a room off to the side of the main room that served as Atlantis' library of artefacts, curios, art work and of course books – all no doubt collected from various Pegasus worlds by the ancients who'd originally inhabited the city.

Amelia followed the tall Satedan past the art pieces they'd brought back from their recent island discovery. She couldn't help but note with satisfaction how they'd been catalogued carefully and some hung on a wall for viewing.

'Lorne let me have some space.' Amelia didn't understand Ronon's explanation until she realised this other room's purpose.

It was a large and airy area, benefiting from a long balcony overlooking the city and out towards the east pier. A number of easels were lined up in what Amelia could see were the best lit points of the room.

Of course.

Major Lorne was a prolific painter in his spare time. She recognised his precise and realistic style in the scattered collection of finished and unfinished pictures populating this makeshift studio. Indeed two original 'Evan Lorne' pieces adorned Richard Woolsey's office and lately several more were on display in the mess hall.

Amelia's mesmerised gaze fell on three pieces that were definitely not in Lorne's distinctive style. Two were propped against a wall near an easel containing a third painting. It was this one that caught her attention.

It was the half-moon bay from the island. With a sharp intake of breath, she recognised its rich colours and shapes in an instant. Amelia leaned her head to one side. The painting was unlike Lorne's, but remarkably similar to that of the unknown Satedan – a patchwork of brushstrokes building up a sense of light and shape.

'Did you…?' she turned to Ronon, astonished.

He nodded. She swore he looked self-conscious.

'Do you like it?'

'It's beautiful,' Amelia whispered, 'It's really beautiful. I didn't…I didn't know you could paint?'

Ronon shrugged, but his eyes were warm at her response.

'Did a lot of things before…' he began, but trailed off before continuing. 'Anyway, it's for you, Amy.'

'What? I couldn't…' tears pricked her eyelids again. 'I couldn't possibly…'

'You supposed to give each other stuff at Christmas, right?' Ronon interrupted gently.

'Yes, but…Ronon…I…'

'So…Merry Christmas.' He insisted and smiled at her stunned look.

'It's for me?' she was stunned into a kind of disbelieving wonder.

'Yeah.' Ronon confirmed.

Decisively Amelia crossed the few paces between them. Wrapping her arms tightly around Ronon's waist, she buried her head in his chest once again. He could hear her whispered thanks sounding softly over and over again underneath his chin. Grinning, Ronon pulled Amelia's slim body flush against his, relishing her warmth and contact with no intention of letting her go anytime soon.

From the comfort and safety of Ronon's arms, Amelia realised that it was indeed Christmas, that she had been the recipient of the most amazing gift, that there was no gaping hole in her stomach any longer and that her heart was beating just fine.

Just fine indeed.

**END**

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**A/N:** beta-ed by **renisanz **with thanks as ever. Feedback is very much needed, loved and expected – so please leave me your reviews, thanks.

Happy New Year! J07 x


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